


just breathe now

by kipcoded



Category: Phan, Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, Sickfic, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-12
Updated: 2017-03-12
Packaged: 2018-10-03 03:15:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10234604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kipcoded/pseuds/kipcoded
Summary: Suddenly he realizes Phil is next to him, arm around his back, holding him upright and checking his temperature by pressing his palm against his cheek.“Phil?” He whispered, once he found the breath and presence of mind to speak.“Hey, baby. I’m here, just breathe.”(Dan comes down with the stomach flu in the middle of the night. Phil cares for him.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> this started as a drabble, but just kept growing and here we are. just be aware there are some mild mentions of vomit.  
> enjoy!!

“Sure you don’t want any?” Phil asked, eyeing him uncertainly for what felt like the millionth time that day.

“I’m sure, just not hungry yet,” Dan answered, glancing at him sideways from the couch. “I’ll have some later.”

“Okaaay…” Phil responded, drawing out the word as he returned to the kitchen from the doorway.

Dan felt bad about turning down the orange chicken stir-fry Phil seemed so proud of making, but he just wasn’t hungry and the thought of eating didn’t seem appealing. He’d started feeling slightly off around mid-morning, but had brushed it off and eaten lunch anyway, figuring he may have just been hungry. Eating had only seemed to make the weird feeling a bit worse, if anything.

Phil returned a minute later carrying his plate of food and setting it down on their dining table nearby, sitting down to chat with Dan while he ate.

“I made a plate for you, it’s wrapped up in the fridge for you to heat when you’re ready,” He said, digging into his meal.

Dan nodded, but pushed the thought of eating back out of his head as they both focused on the episode of _Riverdale_ Dan had put on for them to watch.

They watched the episode and enjoyed casual conversation for a while until Dan felt a headache forming behind his eyes, and felt the uncomfortable feeling of malaise making itself more apparent. He sighed and laid his head back, closing his eyes.

“Dan, you sure you’re feeling okay?” Phil asks, sounding concerned as he sets his fork down with a _clank_ against the plate that makes him flinch.

“’M fine,” He muttered. “Just tired. Didn’t sleep all that well last night.”

Phil gave him a look of skepticism. “You haven’t had much to eat today, Bear, but you’re saying you’re not hungry. You look like you don’t feel your best.”

“No, Phil…” He sighed. “I’m fine, like I said, just need to get some sleep.”

“Okay,” Phil answered, not sounding entirely convinced. “Why not head to bed, then? I can edit the gaming channel video and join you when I’m done.”

Dan stared at him for a moment in hesitation. It was his turn to edit; Phil had edited the one they’d posted a few days ago.

“…You sure?” He asked.

“Of course, you know I don’t mind,” Phil said, smiling sweetly. He stood up with his dishes in hand, preparing to go do the washing up, but stopping first to drop a kiss on the top of his boyfriend’s head. “I’ll come to bed once I’m done.”

Dan nodded and smiled, getting up a few moments after to head toward his bed. Upon arriving he pulled his jeans off and slipped beneath his duvet, not caring enough to change from the t-shirt he’d worn today into more proper pajamas.

He clicked his lights off, save for the amberlamp he was fond of keeping on at night, and curled up under his blankets.

The headache made it difficult to get comfortable, but he was too tired to go hunting for pain medication.

 _Doesn’t matter, it’ll be fine when I wake up,_ he thinks to himself before slipping into unconsciousness.

***

Dan awoke suddenly from a swirly, confusing and unsettling nightmare to find himself sitting up, breathing heavily, and disoriented to the point that he was hardly aware of what was going on until it urgently dawned on him that he was going to throw up.

He started trying to move from his bed in an attempt to haul himself towards the bathroom, but dizziness got the better of him and before he could do anything to help his situation, he was hunched over, throwing up miserably onto his duvet. It happened not once, but three times before the retching ceased, leaving him struggling to catch his breath.

It all happened so fast and had been so painful that Dan didn’t even register at what point he’d started crying. It felt like his whole body was on fire with the flames centered in his stomach and throat, and he couldn’t stop the sobs that tore through him with every few ragged breaths he took.

He must not have heard Phil come in the room over his own crying, but suddenly there was a hand on his back, gently rubbing near his right shoulder, and another hand on his forehead that retreated as quickly as it had come.

“Shh, shh…” Phil soothed despite the panic clear in his tone, rubbing Dan’s back in wider circles. “Hey, shh, Dan, it’s okay. Shh…”

Dan tried to speak, but all that came out was a miserable whimper followed by another sob as tears poured down his face. He hurt _everywhere_. He was confused and nauseous and dizzy and hot and his vomit was all over his bed.

“Hey, let’s get you to your feet, yeah? Just lean your weight on me.”

It took a few moments, but Phil carefully eased Dan out of his soiled bed and into a standing position, where he leant heavily on him.

“Taking you to the toilet, alright? Just walk with me. We’ll go slow. I’ve got you.”

It was a good thing Phil was guiding him and supporting so much of his weight, or else there was absolutely no way he would’ve made it. Soon Phil was lowering him to sit on the floor, and Dan was relieved to see the toilet right in front of him as another surge of sickness took him over almost immediately. Phil sat behind him, gently rubbing his back, feeling the notches of his spine as he rhythmically went up and down with his knuckles.

Dan sat spitting miserably for a few seconds, between soft hitches in his breathing that indicated to Phil he was still crying from the strain of the whole ordeal.

“Hey,” Phil said gently, squeezing his shoulder a little. “Take some deeps breaths with me, okay?”

Dan tearfully followed Phil’s instructions to breathe in and out in time with him as Phil used toilet roll to mop up the tears and wipe his nose, until his breathing was less frantic and his stomach felt more settled.

Phil reached over to flush the toilet, reaching his hand around to push Dan’s fringe back and feel his forehead.

“You’re burning up,” He murmured with a worried sigh. “Do you think you’re done being sick for now?”

Dan thought for a moment before nodding slowly, scooting himself back slightly from the toilet.

“There you go. Now, I’ll be right back, okay? Just going to throw your duvet in for a wash, really really quick.”

Dan nodded slowly, pulling his knees to his chest so he could lie his head down on top of them. His nausea was settled for the time being, but his stomach was plagued with cramps, and his head was pounding in time with his erratic heartbeat. While before he’d felt swelteringly hot, he was now cold and shivery.

Phil was indeed back quickly, and after helping Dan rinse his mouth out, was supporting his weight as they slowly, oh so slowly, made their way back up the stairs.

Phil led Dan to his own dimly lit room, and gently laid him down and pulled the blankets over his shivering form.

Dan whimpered miserably, becoming increasingly aware of how awful he felt.

“I know, love…” Phil murmured sympathetically. “You can go to sleep in just a few minutes, don’t worry. I’ll be right back.”

Dan didn’t want Phil to leave, but didn’t have the energy to raise a protest. He nestled further down into the covers and closed his eyes, trying to combat the shivers.

He hadn’t even realized he’d begun dozing off until he was awoken by Phil’s gentle murmur and the shift of the bed as Phil sat down next to him a few minutes later.

“Hey, wake up just a little so I can take your temperature, okay? It’ll be quick.”

Dan opened his eyes slightly and parted his lips so Phil could slide the thermometer in. “Under your tongue,” he reminded. Dan obliged, letting the device slide under his tongue as his seemingly 10-tonne-heavy eyelids fell closed again.

Phil felt nervous at the high 39.6 C reading the small, glowing screen indicated after a few seconds and some annoyingly loud beeps, but assured himself it was nothing he couldn’t handle. Dan was obviously too sick to stomach anything right then, but in a few hours, he’d have him take something for the fever.

“You can sleep in here with me tonight, yeah? Does that sound good?” Phil asked once he had Dan all tucked in, and was gently wiping his forehead with a cool, damp cloth.

Dan’s heart squeezed in his chest from how much he loved Phil, but suddenly felt anxious as he remembered uncontrollably vomiting on his own bed just a little while earlier.

“Wha’ if I get sick? Like earlier?” He asked, his voice slurred with weariness and the tug of a sob caught in his throat at the sudden wave of guilt that Phil had had to clean up his mess, and fear that it’d happen again.

“I put a bin right on the floor next to you, just to your left. Just lean over it if you start to feel bad. Don’t worry.”

Dan can feel the sting of frustrated tears again. “What if I don’t make it? And I make another disgusting mess?”

Phil can hear the strain on his voice that means Dan’s trying not to cry in frustration. He leans down and kisses his burning forehead. “Then I’ll throw this one in the wash too. I don’t care about the duvet, silly, or having to clean up. You couldn’t help it, love. I just care about making sure you get better.”

Dan slowly nodded, the upset feeling in his chest melting away with Phil’s reassurance.

“Wh’time is it?” Dan asked a few minutes later, as Phil continued wiping his face and neck down.

“Only about 1 AM,” Phil answered. “Don’t worry, you didn’t wake me up. You went to sleep pretty early. I was awake changing into pyjamas in the other room and overheard.”

Sometimes, Dan swore Phil could read his mind. This was one of those times.

Dan could feel the pull of sleep as Phil gently combed his hand through his hair in silence, and soon sleep took him over completely.

***

Phil was awoken hours later to the sound of harsh coughs and gags, and found Dan lying next to him on his front, his head dangling over the edge of the bed.

He was usually slow to wake, but not now. He sat up quickly, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the dim light of only his lava lamp. He crawled closer to Dan, getting a better look and seeing that he was dry heaving into the bin Phil had left for him.

“Dan?” Phil murmured, laying a hand on his back. “It’s okay, it’ll pass…just breathe now,” He said softly, but couldn’t help but feel like his efforts were useless to help.

After a minute, Dan gave a final cough and whimper, and tried to pull himself back towards the bed. Phil gently helped him lie down more fully, where he curled up onto his side, breathing shakily.

“Phil,” He moaned, shivering.

“I’m right here, baby. Can I get you anything?”

Dan didn’t say anything, just reached out towards him. Phil knowingly took his hand, and carefully squeezed it, smoothing over the warm skin with his thumb.

Phil used his other arm to reach for his nightstand and grab the thermometer; he might as well.

“Temperature, love. Open up.”

Dan opened his mouth and let Phil slide the small device under his tongue. It beeped after a few seconds, and Phil sighed nervously.

Dan made a small, inquisitive noise, not bothering to open his eyes.

“Your fever is pretty high. Do you think you could try paracetamol?”

Dan immediately shakes his head. “No…” He groans, and Phil isn’t really surprised. It’d probably be back up within a minute even if he did try.

“Alright. Do you want to go back to sleep?” He asks, smoothing his hair again.

Dan nods, and Phil smooths his hair soothingly until he’s asleep, and then he isn’t far behind him.

***

When Dan awoke, there was sunlight, Phil’s side of the bed was empty, and oh _God,_ he felt _awful._

His whole body was overtaken by painful muscle aches, his headache was so severe he could barely see straight, his throat felt swollen shut, and his stomach felt like it’d been tied in a tight triple knot. He wasn’t sure he could move. He wanted Phil.

After a few minutes of lying in agony, Phil returned with a glass of water. He smiled seeing he was no longer asleep.

“Oh, look who’s awake,” He says, softly but cheerfully. “Good morning, my sick little Bear,” He greeted, setting the water down on the nightstand, and sitting down on the bed next to him. “How are you feeling?”

Dan didn’t have the energy to act like he felt better, or be in any way cheerful in return. He just averted his eyes, blinking heavily.

“Bad,” He says, and his voice is barely a whisper. The cheerfulness seems to dissolve from Phil’s face at the sound of Dan’s pathetic voice, and that only makes Dan feel worse.

“I’m sorry, love,” Phil murmurs. “I need you to sit up and have some water, okay? You’ll feel better once you aren’t so dehydrated.”

Dan slowly tries to push himself up, but the attempt proves useless. He’s so weak he can hardly move, and everything aches so much it’s just too painful to try. Phil comes to his rescue, leaning down and clutching him in an embrace as he pulls his body upright to lean against the pillows and headboard behind him. He brings a glass of water with a straw to his lips, and Dan takes small, cautious sips at Phil’s instruction to avoid overloading his sensitive stomach.

“Let’s see how that settles before we try any medicine,” Phil says, and Dan nods minutely. He just wants to lie back down.

“Is my duvet ruined?” Dan mumbles out of nowhere a minute later, his voice so croaky and soft Phil only barely understands the question.

“No,” Phil replies, smiling fondly at him. “It finished in the dryer a few minutes before you woke up, and it looks good as new. I remade your bed a few minutes ago.”

Dan manages a weak half-smile. “Thank you...”

“Of course, Bear. How’s your stomach? Could you try some medicine? It’s the liquid kind. No pills.”

“I’ll try,” Dan rasps.

Phil measures and pours the medicine out for him before handing the small cup over. Dan grimaces as he swallows it down, and looks dangerously pale for a moment after, but ultimately keeps it down.

“There, good! That should make you feel better. Anything else I can do?”

“…Lay with me?” He suggests, and Phil smiles warmly as he gets into the bed with him, putting his arm around Dan, who immediately moves to curl against him.

It doesn’t take long for Dan to fall back asleep, the effects of the medicine kicking in and easing his symptoms to allow him a more peaceful rest.

***

Dan awakens again late in the afternoon, the pains and discomfort slightly eased from the medicine that lingered in his system. He’s curled up on his side, drowsy and shivering slightly, and slowly realizes Phil is sitting at his side, gently running a hand over his back from behind him.

“You waking up, sweetheart?” Phil whispers, seeing his eyelids slowly flutter open and closed.

Dan gives a small hum in reply.

“Can you sip some water for me?”

Dan feels so sleepy and heavy he’s not entirely sure he can sit himself up, but nods slightly anyways. Phil chuckles to himself at the way Dan makes no move to sit up.

“Come on, Bear,” He encourages. He reaches over and helps his boyfriend move from being curled up on his side to lying on his back, and shoves his arms underneath him to pull him upright.

Dan’s head lolls back against the headboard, exhaustion weighing him down.

Phil brings the cup and straw to his mouth again, and Dan sluggishly takes few small sips before stopping, his eyes closing again.

“Stay awake, love,” He urges, with a gentle nudge. Dan’s eyes slowly open again. “There you go. Drink some more, okay? You hardly drank any just then. You’ll feel better.”

“Hurts my throat,” Dan mumbles, and it’s the truth. As much as he knows he needs fluids, it hurts _terribly_ to swallow. Not to mention, his stomach is turning uncomfortably and he’d really rather just curl up and go back to sleep.

“Would you prefer some tea?” Phil offers.

Dan shakes his head. If not for the turning in his stomach, tea would sound nice. But for the moment, he didn’t think he could handle anything other than water.

“Just drink the rest of this. It’s only, hmm…maybe 200mL or so. You can do it, just take it slow.”

Dan reluctantly takes the straw back into his mouth, and slowly takes tiny sips until his stomach gives a firm squeeze of protest, and he stops.

“Almost done, Dan, just a few more sips and you can go back to sleep,” Phil says, trying to be gently encouraging. Dan moves his arms over his stomach and turns his head away sharply.

“I _really_ can’t, Phil,” He grumbles, hoping he won’t push the issue. Thankfully, he seems to take the hint and sets the cup down, reaching out to stroke his hot cheek with his thumb.

“Tummy?” Phil asks, and Dan nods. “Do you need the bin?”

He’s relieved when he shakes his head after a moment of consideration.

“Okay. It’s in the same place if you need it.”

Dan slides back down into the bed, and is beginning to fall back asleep when a realization hits him. It’s Thursday.

“Time’s it?” He slurs, eyes opening.

“Oh, uh, about 6:30 in the evening. Why do you ask?”

“Your live show…” Dan murmurs. “You have to do your live show.”

Phil smiles sympathetically at him. “I’m not sure if I’m going to do it tonight. I need to keep an eye on you, love.”

“No,” Dan interjects immediately. “I’ll be fine by myself for an hour…you have to do it…” He urges, voice heavy with croakiness.

“Are you sure?” He asks, uncertain as he pulls the blankets back up around his boyfriend.

“Mm,” He hums, nodding. “Prolly just sleep the whole time.”

Phil presses a hand to his forehead, and then moves to smooth his hair.

“Your fever isn’t quite so high right now. Alright. I’ll do the live show. Just yell if you need me and I’ll cut it short, okay?”

Dan nods, lethargy taking over, and he’s asleep within seconds.

…

Dan is jolted awake by nausea, and rushes to grab the bin off the floor and shove it into his lap before miserably being sick again. He moans. He thought he was done with this phase of the illness, but apparently not. His throat is raw with blinding pain, and he feels dizzy.

Suddenly he realizes Phil is next to him, arm around his back, holding him upright and checking his temperature by pressing his palm against his cheek.

“Phil?” He whispered, once he found the breath and presence of mind to speak.

“Hey, baby. I’m here, just breathe.”

They sit in silence for a couple minutes, the only sounds being Dan’s ragged breathing and Phil’s gentle words of reassurance, before he suddenly speaks again.

“Your live show, Phil,” He breathes, a cough following the words. “You’re supposed to be doing your live show!”

“Shh, shh, just relax. I cancelled it today,” He assures, patting his back.

“No,” Dan groans, cursing himself for feeling that tight, upset feeling in his chest again. “You’re supposed to…”

“Dan, shh, listen to me,” Phil murmurs. “You can barely keep water down, and you’ve been burning up with a fever, do you really think I’d leave you alone like this?” Phil asked him. Dan didn’t answer, guilt and nausea still eating away at him. “I considered it when you seemed better earlier, but your fever spiked up not long after you fell back asleep. I made a tweet and said I was busy tonight. No one minds,” he explains.

Dan just lays his head down on Phil’s shoulder, feeling guilty.

“Aw…you poor thing,” He tenderly rubs his back. “You must feel like you got trampled by a herd of wildebeests.”

Dan didn’t answer, but Phil felt a telltale drop of moisture fall onto his shoulder, along with shaky breaths.

Phil pressed a kiss into Dan’s wildly curly hair, and used his thumb to wipe away Dan’s tears. “Oh, love…listen, it’s okay. We’ll get you feeling better soon, don’t worry.”

***

Phil had calmed Dan down enough to get him to nap for a while, and convinced him to try some Gatorade a few hours later when he woke up again. He’d held it down for a few hours now, and seemed it like was going to stay put. Finally. Both were relieved.

“I feel gross,” Dan mumbled, from where he laid with his head on Phil’s lap in the lounge. _The Secret World of Arietty_ credits were rolling on the TV in front of them; though Dan had only been awake for maybe a third of it, total. He was still shivering slightly, but he’d been sweating on and off since the illness began. His shirt and pyjama pants were damp and cold, and his hair felt grimy and tangled from sweat.

“How about a bath?” Phil offered, grabbing the remote and switching the TV off.

Dan nodded. He was too weak and dizzy to stand for the length of time a shower would take. A warm bath and new pyjamas sounded like exactly what he needed.

Phil helped him off the couch and down to their bathroom, getting the bath running while Dan sat on the floor nearby, watching. Once Phil had finished readying the bath, he moved to help Dan out of his clothes.

Phil had seen probably seen him naked at least a thousand times, but it somehow felt embarrassing when he was a pathetic, sick mess sitting on their bathroom floor. Nonetheless, he knew Phil didn’t feel that way, and allowed himself to be undressed and then helped into the bath.

The warm water was a blessed respite from the shivery, damp feeling he’d had all day. Phil wasted no time grabbing a washcloth and beginning to wash him.

“Feel better?” He asked, smiling at him. Dan nodded. The warmth of the water and comfort of the sudsy body wash being massaged into his skin was making him tired all over again, even though he had spent almost the entire day asleep.

Phil could see Dan was growing weary again, and made quick work of bathing him. He grabbed a cup from nearby and prodded him with instructions to tilt his head back when needed so he could wash and rinse his hair.

It was embarrassing, in a way, letting someone else bathe him as a grown man, but he was so drained and sick he figured it was probably best Phil was helping him. He likely couldn’t have managed this on his own, if he’s honest with himself.

Phil rinsed Dan off and wrapped him in a towel once he was done, and led him up the stairs to his room. Dan sat drowsily on the bed watching Phil pull out pyjamas for him, and cooperated as he helped him get dressed.

He started to crawl under the covers of his bed once he was clothed, but felt a pair of warm hands on his shoulders that halted him.

“Bear, I want you to try to eat some soup and have some medicine before you go back to sleep, alright? You kept that Gatorade down earlier. Can you do that for me?”

Dan hesitates. “I’m not really hungry,” He admits.

“I know,” Phil says. “But you haven’t eaten in well over 24 hours now, so you probably really need to eat a little something. Just give it a go, okay?”

Dan nods reluctantly, and accepts his help up off the bed and back down the hall.

Phil gets him settled in the lounge under some blankets, and puts on an episode of _The X-Files_ before heading off into the kitchen to make him something to eat.

Dan pays attention to a few minutes of Mulder and Scully’s investigations before the grip of fatigue seemed to capture him again, and he drifted off slowly to the sounds from the TV and the distant clanks of pots and pans as Phil moved around the kitchen.

***

Phil almost doesn’t want to wake Dan up.

He looks so _cute,_ now that he can see him in a fully lit room, asleep with his mouth slightly ajar, his head back against the couch, and the blankets wrapped around him so securely he looks like a burrito. His cheeks are flushed a blotchy pink with the heat of his fever, and it somehow makes him look even cuter. Phil feels his heart flutter with affection.

He sets the meal down on the table and sits down next to him, watching for just a moment as he slowly breathes in and out before bending forward to gently kiss his forehead and squeeze his shoulder.

It takes a minute for Dan’s eyes to sluggishly open, blinking heavily at Phil. He drowsily moves to push his head under Phil’s chin.

Phil kisses the top of his head and embraces him, rocking him carefully back and forth for a moment before stopping and adjusting his damp curls.

“Made you soup, love. Can you try a little? I’ll feed you,” He offers.

Dan gives a weak laugh. “How could I turn that down?” He asks, his voice coming out as a raspy whisper.

Phil smiles at him, releasing him from the embrace and moving to retrieve the bowl.

He spoons up some of the chicken noodle soup and moves it to Dan’s mouth, who opens his mouth to accepts the offering.

He closes his eyes and hums softly as Phil slides the spoon out of his mouth, carefully chewing and swallowing.

“Good?” Phil asks.

Dan nods. “So good,” He answers, and accepts the next bite of soup he is offered. “Didn’t know you meant you were making me your _homemade_ chicken soup.” Phil nods.

“It’s the kind my mum used to make me whenever I was ill,” Phil says, even though he’s probably told Dan this before. “I swear it has magical healing powers or something. I also _swear_ it’s better for a sensitive tummy than the type in the can.”

Dan nods in appreciation and manages almost all of the small serving before Phil can tell he’s struggling to eat any more. He gives him a cracker to nibble on and has him take a few sips of Gatorade along with another dose of fever reducer before cleaning the dishes up and leading him back to bed.

“Come cuddle with me,” Dan demands softly once he’s settled under Phil’s bedsheets, and Phil has changed into his pajamas.

“If you insist,” Phil teases, and slips into the bed after turning the light off, moving to spoon him and kiss his cheek. He’s relieved to notice the heat coming off of him isn’t nearly as intense as it was earlier.

“Phil?” Dan whispers, after a few minutes of comfortably silent cuddling.

“Yes, baby?”

“I love you. You’re so good to me,” He murmurs.

“I love you too, Bear. Anything to help you feel better.”

“Also, Phil…”

“Yeah?”

“I hope you don’t catch this. It’s miserable,” Dan says, laughing slightly.

“I hope not, too,” Phil replies. “But if I do, guess you’ll just have to look after me.”

“Mm,” Dan murmurs, his voice heavy with drowsiness. “Guess so. That’s alright.”

Phil kisses his neck and pulls him closer.

“Goodnight, bear.”

“G’night, Philly.”

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!  
> follow me on tumblr at freetheknee! i take fic prompts and art requests :)
> 
> ALSO PLS PLS IF YOU ENJOYED check out the drawing i made based on this fic!! https://freetheknee.tumblr.com/post/158749661811/little-drawingfake-tweet-i-made-loosely-based-on


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